


Strangling is off the Table

by xxSoliusxx



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Any sane person would have crushed the echoeye but rhys is a little bit fucked in the head, Badass Rhys, Betrayal, Handsome Jack (Borderlands) Being an Asshole, M/M, Manipulation, Post-Tales from the Borderlands, Rhys and jack have shit to work out, Vault of the Traveler, Vault of the Warrior, consensual strangling, handsome jack ai but not for long, jacks body is still in the warrior vault, just a little bit, questionable relationships, rude ass vault hunters didnt bother moving him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23500666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxSoliusxx/pseuds/xxSoliusxx
Summary: Rhys finds Jack's body in the vault. Everyone deserves a second chance...right?
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 206





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So got another rhack idea the day after i finished my long fic so heres a short impulsive thing ive been writing cause quarantine is boring as hell

Rhys felt a surge of pride as he stood at Fiona’s side before the glowing, open Vault chest. He resisted the urge to fall to his knees with an overwhelming weight of triumph crashing over his shoulders. 

Instead, he glanced over and beamed brilliantly at Fiona, who was reaching forwards into the chest. He watched the small smile tug at the corners of her mouth while she gingerly lifted the right-hand pulsing tablet from the Vault chest. Rhys held the alternate piece in his own metal hand, the purple etchings faintly bathing him in a lilac glow. 

“What do you think this does?” Fiona asked with mild curiosity, her hand clutching the tablet pausing in midair. Rhys shrugged, his own metal fingers curling around the edge of his tablet piece.

“My guess is the Vault of the Traveler has something to do with traveling...maybe some cool eridian teleportation tech of some kind,” he answered insightfully. Fiona exhaled a short amused huff, a lock of hair fluttering slightly at her puff of breath. She flicked her hat. 

“I figured that much, thanks. Well...are we gonna to do this?”

Rhys nodded, casting her a light grin.

“Ready when you are.”

He slowly lifted the heavy piece as Fiona mirrored his actions before sliding the tablets together, each side of the metal fitting snugly as the final piece of the puzzle fell into place. 

For a moment, nothing happened and the world was rightly still. Both Rhys and Fiona remained silent and frozen, the Vault key pulsing brightly in each of their palms. The swimming indigo lights of the Vault doused their silhouettes perched at the top of the crumbling set of stairs. 

Rhys cast a disconcerted look towards Fiona. She met his gaze with equal apprehension. He opened his mouth to speak. 

“W–”

But his surprised query was drowned out by a deafening roar of unexpected wind rushing in his ears. The tablet slipped from his grasp and escaped Fiona’s fingers, clattering onto the flagstones beneath their feet. 

Rhys was suddenly swept off his shoes by a peculiar force of wind and hit the crumbling purple stones below him with a dull thud as billowing ribbons of deep blue washed over his senses. He struggled back upright to his feet, furiously fighting the force of the winds that had unexpectedly whipped up through the atmosphere. 

The wind ripped through his hair, sending strands to obscure his blue vision as he raised a hand and attempted to squint through the chaos. 

He spotted Fiona on the other side of the platform, struggling forwards against the wind relentlessly shoving her back. 

“Rhys!” her voice came muffled as the tunnels of wind whirled around her. Rhys struggled, feeling the violent gusts begin to shove him backwards. He planted his feet firmly to the stones with no avail as his heels began to slowly inch backwards across the weathered surface of the ground. Panic clawed at his mind, quickly turning to desperation as he watched Fiona teeter backwards, booted heels slipping over the edge of the crumbling landing.

“Fi! Grab my hand!” he cried, flinging out his metal arm and furiously fighting against the vicious winds. 

“I–I can’t reach–” Fiona made a desperate grab for his outstretched wrist but missed his hand as a sudden violent gust blasted between them, shoving them apart and sending them flying towards the opposite sides of the landing. Rhys staggered backwards, attempting to regain balance but his back foot met air as he stumbled back. 

“Rhys!” 

Rhys’s vision churned in a dizzying whirl as a second wave of wind knocked into him, mercilessly tossing him from the Vault platform. His silver fingers remained outstretched in a desperate reach to grasp the edge of the platform but to no avail. 

He let loose a strangled yell as hues of purple and blue spiraled across his sight. He freely fell twisting through the air, tumbling into whatever depths lay below the crumbling Vault platform which was quickly shrinking with every passing second now far above him as he descended to the depths. 

There was a brilliant, blinding flash of blue lights before he crashed into blinding darkness.

\---------

When Rhys regained some semblance of consciousness, he let out a pained groan, sensing an uncomfortably hard ground pressing against his aching back. The back of his head rested against a hot, rocky surface. Gathering the strength, he peeled open a single eye, strangely warm light flooding his vision. With a confused grunt, he cracked open a second eye in order to observe the sky stretching far above him. 

The sky. The sky was above him, not the brilliant blue hues of the Vault of the Traveler.

_What the hell?_

On top of that, the sky was a hazy orange. 

As Rhys’s sight kicked into gear, his sense of smell and hearing slowly followed suit, a faint ringing, pulsing in his ears. A tangy stinging scent of ashes wafted through his nose and he groaned, peeling his back up from the ground and gingerly collecting his legs under him as he struggled to his feet. 

In a second his vision rightened, blurry tinges of sight focusing in. His limbs ached as he gazed in a whirl of confusion and fear at the views before him. The hot, red-orange hues of his new surroundings starkly contrasted the former cool, calm blues of the Vault. 

Currently, he was unsteadily swaying on his feet at one end of a rocky circular basin with high stone walls enclosing the place. A hazy curtain of smoke draped across the edges of the valley and clouded the orange sky. The massive presence of Elpis loomed near the horizon, hiding behind a particularly opaque patch of smoke filling the air.

Rhys’s attention snapped down to the path before him. At the moment he stood on a brown rocky strip of land, uneven stones stretching before him and extending into a shallow lake of hot, bubbling lava. The path led into the lava a short ways before widening and forming a stony circular peninsula of massive circumference rising from the magma. Rhys squinted across the way in an attempt to make out the jagged shapes located on the end of the peninsula. If he didn’t know better, he’d say there was a control panel out there. 

The circular spanse of land was watched over by four statues of unnaturally disfigured human-esque creatures. Small splashes of lava poured from their eyes. 

_Where the hell? What is this place?_

A massive, shattered Vault symbol arched over the peninsula.

Rhys spun around to glance behind him. To his relieving surprise, there was a roughly slapped together Fast-Travel station. The metal was old and rusted and some panels hung loose in a jumbled mess. However, a faint, pulsing glow weakly shone through the light affixed to the nose of the device. Even if the station was in slight disrepair, the hunk of junk would still function. Especially with Rhys around since he had a flashy cybernetic arm that came with capabilities and skills he needed in order to fix a crappy Fast-Travel station. 

In short, Rhys had a means of escape from...whatever place this was and he was in no immediate danger. He spun back around and glanced down at himself, patting his black overcoat and noting the golden buttons fixed to his vest were still intact. He smoothed out his clothes with a concerned once over. 

Yeah, he seemed to be fine apart from a few slight bruises and aches to the body. However at the moment he didn't care about himself, he was more interested in his current location. Seriously, where the hell was he?

Rhys spun in a slow circle, giving his bright surroundings a second careful observation. 

So he’d entered the Vault of the Traveler and that Vault spat him out here…wherever “here” was. 

His eyes strayed to the massive Vault symbol hovering over the circular peninsula in the middle of the lava lake and suddenly, pieces fell into place. 

The Traveler had teleported him to “here,” another Vault on Pandora. Yet to the best of Rhys’s knowledge, the only other Vault known on Pandora was the Vault of the Warrior….the very same Vault Handsome Jack had perished in. 

Coincidence was running wild today wasn’t it? 

Rhys hadn’t the faintest of a clue _why_ he was sent to the Vault of the Warrior but at least he knew where he was. 

Straightening his shoulders, he took a step forwards, stones heavy under the soles of his boots as he began on the path stretching before him, leading to the peninsula floating in the middle of the lava-lake. Heat rolled off the bubbling lava and Rhys remained wary, cautiously moving across the narrow strip of land and sticking loyally in the center. 

As he reached the edge of the circular peninsula, his foot stepped off the uneven stones and onto the slightly more elevated circumference of rocky ground. Rhys paused at the edge, surveying his surroundings. 

Ruins of a dilapidated control panel sat off to his right but...not much else. To Rhys’s surprise, he felt a twang of disappointment at the lack of importance here. It was just some old ruins. He shoved his hands into his pockets, ruffling the black fabric of his coat as his gaze suddenly grew glowering. Frustration bubbled in his gut.

The stupid Traveler hadn’t even bothered to fulfill it’s promise to him of riches or powerful technology. Seriously, why was he even here? Why was he in the desolate ruins of some friggin’ dead Vault? There was nothing here, not riches or alien technology. Stupid, friggin’ Traveler. 

In order to contain his irritation, Rhys glanced down at his feet, hoping to spot a good, sizable chunk of pebble he could wind up and kick across into the mass of bubbling lava for good measure– _WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT._

Rhys’s heart leapt up his throat in a jolt of surprise as his eyes fell upon the tanned flesh of an arm lying limp at his feet, fingers dead and curling over a palm. Rhys’s attention immediately jerked to the rest of the person, lying face down and splayed across the uneven flagstone. 

He took a tentative step backwards, observing the gravely still body of the stranger, soaked in dark crimson (blood?) stains, spotting the tattered, worn fabric of a dark blue-ish (maybe? it was hard to tell under the layer of blood) coat stretching over the (man?)’s broad shoulders. 

For some odd reason, the simple curvature of the man’s limp stature sprawled on the stones struck a strangely familiar chord with Rhys. 

“Uh...hello?” Rhys started cautiously, staring daggers at the unmoving man sprawled face down in the middle of the Vault. The response from the corpse on the ground was dead silence. 

“Hello?” Rhys started again, this time cautiously edging the toe of his boot into the man’s side, prodding his upper arm. 

It was at this moment, Rhys was struck with the brilliant realization that the man lying face down before him was in fact, not breathing. Like...at all. 

“Oh gross,” Rhys groaned, stepping backward and dragging his toe against the stones of the ground as if to clean the presence of the corpse from his boot. He glared at the body with a stab of curiosity. 

Why was this random dead guy here? 

Who was this random dead guy? 

And why the fuck did the Traveler bring Rhys to this random dead guy?

Rhys heaved a dramatic sigh and squatted to his heels, eyes narrowed in baleful irritation at the limp body before him. He wanted answers. Unfortunately, if he wanted answers he’d have to do some dirty work. He glared upwards at the crumbling Vault symbol arching over his head. 

“You’re gonna make me touch a dead body? Seriously?” he complained to the symbol. The Vault did not reply. 

Rhys groaned in disgust. 

Well...he could always just head back across the narrow peninsula to that Fast-Travel station and leave the Vault all together...there was nothing stopping him. Well–Actually there was one thing stopping him and it was his intense curiosity. 

And his curiosity was much stronger than his disgust. Besides, this particular body didn’t seem avidly gross...there was a lack of smell and a peculiar absence of beetles and bugs foraging on this guy’s dead fleshy arm. 

“Alright, let’s see who you are, mystery dead guy, since apparently, the Traveler wanted me to find you,” Rhys muttered, reaching out a metal hand across the corpses back to seize its opposite shoulder. With his fingers grasping the rough fabric cladding the man’s shoulder and a slight grunt, Rhys pulled a forceful heave, struggling at the corpse's surprising weight as he slowly rolled the man over onto his back. 

A loose, fearful cry of surprise fell from Rhys’s mouth and he immediately leaped to his feet, scrambling backward and raising his metal arm in an instinctive means of defense as a burst of adrenaline pumped through his veins.

The painstakingly familiar head attached to the shoulders of the man flopped to the side, wisps from the mess of dark brown hair atop his head straying into his limply lidded, dull eyes. High cheekbones...metal graftings fixed under the chin and near the temples…

Rhys’s breath caught in his throat as he stared wide-eyed at the perfectly preserved body of Handsome Jack. He blinked furiously, staring at the corpse in awestruck paralyzation. 

_How?_

_Why?_

There were two key details about the body before that stuck out in Rhys’s observation the most. 

One: he was maskless. Rhys could hardly fathom this fact. Even the AI version of Jack that’d ridden shotgun in his mind months ago had adorned a flawlessly constructed digital mask for all his AI glory. Huh...well now the mystery of the mask was revealed. The mask had been a concealer for a jagged blue gash stretching across Jack’s face, marring the bridge of his nose and the flush of either cheek. 

Notably, the scar branding Jack’s face was identical to the Vault symbol arching overhead. 

Two: There was a clean, cylindrical bullet hole neatly drilled into the dead center of Jack’s forehead. Splotches of long-dried blood clung to the edges of his oddly neat wound. Rhys’s throat constricted and he tore his gaze away from the limp, grave features of Jack’s resting expression. 

So the Traveler had brought him to Jack. Well this was certainly a humerous, cruel twist of fate, eh? Rhys bit back a hollow chuckle. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing an exhale. 

Jack...oh dear Jack, Jack Jack. 

Handsome Jack was a special case. 

For the past six months, Rhys fought to erase any traces of the goddamn AI from his thoughts. Truly. Yet he’d been challenged with the never ending barriers of conflicted emotions and unfinished business. Unanswered questions and endless situational, “but what if?”s. 

The Handsome Jack AI’s ultimate demise had been quick and unexpected 

Just like his betrayal. 

Rhys had genuinely looked up to Jack as an idol in admiration. Then Jack got shoved into Rhys’s body as an unwilling head-mate. That had been a less than desirable ordeal. But then after that, Rhys grew stupid enough to believe the two of them had become friends…and he’d really...truly believed that. 

Until Jack declared him a backstabber and also tried to force him into a slow painful fate worse than death of course. 

Rhys’s emotions conflicted with one another as he squinted dully at Jack’s corpse. A small part of him yearned and faithfully remembered the brief flash of a timeframe where the both of them had genuinely seemed close and on a firm level of friendship. 

_So much for friendship, eh?_ Rhys thought bitterly, glaring at Jack’s cold body stretched out across the rough flagstones. 

Yet there _had_ been the presence of a genuine note of friendship in their relationship. Or perhaps that had been a sliver of trust? Rhys held a firm belief there was at one point–no matter how brief that point was–a genuine bond of companionship. 

Perhaps Jack wasn’t completely out of his mind when he went batshit crazy and interpreted Rhys’s act of refusal as a cold act of heartless betrayal. 

In no way was Rhys justifying Jack’s actions of trying to _fucking kill him,_ lets get that clear. However, Rhys recognized Jack’s line of reasoning and the delusioned pattern of his thinking.

Years of being betrayed by anyone Jack ever considered a friend or close companion clearly shoved a heavy influence into his rational and reasoning. Jack had taken Rhys’s act of refusal to die for him as an act of personal backstabbing betrayal, instead of a very normal, valid refusal to getting your body dismembered and an endoskeleton shoved inside. 

Rhys heaved a tired sigh. Jack had a genuine reason for lashing out at Rhys, no matter how wrong or un-morally justified his excuse was. So…perhaps if the two of them simply had more time...more time to speak and work things out…Maybe if Jack was granted a second chance at living, he’d open his eyes to his fucked up decisions and seize the opportunity to change or perhaps even amend things. 

In the moment, staring down at Jack’s lifeless shell of a body, Rhys’s mind churned. Maybe...just maybe...perhaps if there was some outlandish way to bring Jack back...if there was a reluctant possibility of giving him a second chance...maybe he could explain himself. Or perhaps if Rhys brought him back the simple act alone would be enough to satisfy Jack and make him forget about Rhys’s “betrayal”. 

_Why do I want his forgiveness so badly? There’s no point in bending over backwards for the guy’s forgiveness–the same guy who tried to_ kill you _multiple times_ . _Rhys, you didn’t betray him, he betrayed_ you. _You owe him nothing, you don’t have to bring him back. Unless...this whole thing isn’t really about so-called “second chances”._

Suddenly, the dangerous longing for what life was like before the whole endoskeleton ordeal rose to light in Rhys’s mind. Hey–I mean, the two of them were gonna rule Hyperion. Hyperion! The strongest company in this corner of the galaxy. Er– _was_ the strongest company in this corner of the galaxy. 

Hyperion had fallen for good following AI Jack’s death. 

Rhys’s questioning gaze pierced Jack’s lifeless form for a moment longer before Rhys wiped his brow and arrived at a decision.

_I can’t believe I’m gonna do this._

Rhys swept around Jack, stepping behind his head and stooping. With a grunt he slid his arms under Jack’s armpits, rough coat fabric scraping his hands. God, why was his corpse such a friggin’ deadweight? With a forceful heave, Rhys lifted Jack’s shoulders from the ground, his head falling limply to his chest. Rhys strained and began to drag Jack’s body with much difficulty across the rough stones. He worked backwards, headed for the ruined control panel. 

“You make everything so difficult, even when you're dead, you know that?” Rhys balefully hissed through his teeth, fingers digging further into the fabric of his coat. Dead Jack replied with silence. Rhys struggled to drag his body the final feet before carefully propping him upright against the ruined metal of the control panel. 

His head limply lolled to the side and Rhys resisted the urge to snort in amusement as he stepped back, admiring his handiwork and placing his hands on his hips. 

_If only you could see yourself now, Jack._

Rhys studied Jack’s rag-doll form for a moment longer before turning his attention to one of the inner breast pockets of his own black overcoat. With a metal hand, Rhys reached in, fingers curling around a small circular object. 

With ginger fingers, he drew out the old, faintly pulsing ECHOeye. He pinched the device between his forefinger and thumb, squinting as he held the tiny circle up to the light. A frown etched his face as he studied the thing that haunted him so endlessly. 

The gears of his mind were hard at work scheming up some outlandish plan to revive Jack with such limited resources. Rhys figured this shouldn't be too difficult. After all, he had the two main ingredients on hand: A body, and AI Jack’s consciousness in the ECHOeye. All he had to do was transfer the ECHOeye to Jack’s hollow shell of a body…

 _How would I even do this?_ Rhys thought hopelessly, dropping down into a squat on his knees beside Jack, peering back and forth between the eye and Jack’s lifeless face, hoping to spark some sort of mad scientist-genius idea.

Hmm...Well…the short wire dangling off the ECHOeye was live and served as the plug to the ECHOeye. In short, the wire was a portal capable of transferring Holo-Jack to another database. 

_And technically,_ the human brain was a database. Since a database was classified as a mountain of stored information, there was no difference between the database of a brain and a database of technological origins. Well, except that one was fleshy and the other was metal. 

So, if Rhys was able to position the lense of the glowing blue ECHOeye onto the surface of one of Jack’s eyes and was able to wriggle the wire around and behind said eye to touch his brain…

 _Oh my god this is disgusting._ Rhys coughed, suddenly feeling queasy. Maybe he shouldn’t do this…maybe this was a bad idea…

_No need to pussy out just from a bit of dead body. This can’t be worse than the face pizza incident._

Rhys sighed heavily, now staring at Jack’s corpse with grotesque apprehension. He leaned forwards and tentatively cupped Jack’s chin, forcing his face upright with the tips of his metal fingers. Then he reached up towards Jack’s right eye–the one with the Vault symbol carved through it–and gingerly prodded his clammy eyelid with twitchy fingers. 

This whole situation set Rhys on edge and his mind half expected Jack to spring upright to life out of nowhere and try to kill him. 

_Just calm down, you’re fine, Jack’s dead. Well, right now he is, at least._

With a deep, steadying breath, Rhys swallowed back down the dreaded lump forming in his throat and braced himself against the horrible grossness of it all. As he carefully pried open the limp eyelid of Jack’s right eye, the tip of his metal fingers brushed the surface of his eye itself. The odd, cold solidness of the eye’s surface and the lack of iris or pupil present led Rhys to the conclusion in place of his Jack’s left eye was actually an opaque white marble. 

Huh, well that might make things easier, especially since the marble didn’t have the delicate grotesque squishiness of a real eye. 

“Well, here goes nothing,” Rhys muttered, narrowing his focus on the precise movements of his hand as he delicately slid the iris of the ECHOeye smoothly onto the slippery surface of the marble eye. 

Setting the ECHOeye in place was the easiest part of the plan. Now came the next, more difficult step since it involved both Rhys’s mental stability and the stability of his hands. 

Gingerly, Rhys pinched the ECHOeye’s live wire between his flesh fingers and sucked in a shaky breath, wincing as he threaded the tiny wire beneath Jack’s eyelid, along towards the back internal side of the marble eye. He grimaced, slightly wriggling the wire farther and farther in until….

“Ow!” Rhys jerked his flesh hand back as a quick jolt of electricity crackled up through the wire, illuminating the ECHOeye’s iris and stinging his fingertips. He shuffled backwards, cradling his stinging hand and eyeing Jack’s lifeless form with cautionary wariness. The ECHOeye resting on his eye illuminated a bright sparking blue between his drooping eyelids and Rhys felt a thrill of excitement and fear. 

Had his plan worked? The ECHOeye seemed to be reacting positively judging its newfound brilliant light–Woah shit!

Rhys watched with an almost disbelieving expression as the electric blue glowing ECHOeye suddenly flickered to a vibrant green hue. 

_That’s new._

Rhys’s heart raced, suddenly jackhammering against his ribs in unexpected excitement. So...had the ECHOeye worked? Did the color change mean anything significant? Was the AI connected to whatever brain was in that body? 

Rhys took a cautious shuffle forwards, peering intently at Jack’s limp expression. Nothing else had occurred after the implant besides the brilliant green color shift of the ECHOeye. Jack remained wholly still. He almost seemed to be in a peaceful slumber except for the lack of a healthy rise and fall of his chest. 

He was still dead. 

“Fuck!” Rhys exclaimed, heart sinking as he threw up his hands and glared stubbornly at Jack’s resting expression. He pinched the bridge of his nose as a wave of irritation crashed over his head. 

Of course jamming the ECHOeye into Jack’s body wouldn’t work! God, what was Rhys thinking? He wasn’t a neurological surgeon, hell, he wasn’t even a cybernetic researcher! He had no idea how the implants functioned down to the atom! Heck, he didn’t even have any proof jamming the ECHOeye into Jack’s socket would even do anything.

“Hello? Jack?” Rhys stooped and waved an arm in front of Jack’s limp, unmoving expression for good measure. Of course there came no reaction. Rhys heaved a vicious, frustrated sigh and straightened up, throwing his hands to the air in exasperation. He’d been so optimistically sure this would work too…

“Oh come _on!_ ” He exclaimed furiously, digging his heels into the ground and placing his hands on his hips. He glared heatedly at Jack’s corpse before exhaling an aggressive sigh. 

“‘Course that’s not gonna work–what on earth was I _thinking?_ ” Rhys berated himself, rubbing a furious metal hand into his temple as he tried to mask his feeling of gut wrenching disappointment with self deprecation. 

“I am so _stupid,_ ” he cursed, rubbing his temple furiously with a set of cybernetic fingers.

And then through the heated haze of Rhys’s frustration, the flutter of movement snared his attention.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> where did all the kudos come from overnight??? thank you so much for the support omg

While seconds ticked by, Rhys remained frozen, staring in a jolt of disbelief as Jack’s eyelids fluttered. The movement was no more than a passing twitch but Rhys caught the subtle stir all the same. 

After his initial disbelief came a mixture of hope, excitement and curiosity flooding his senses. He swiftly moved to kneel beside Jack, black coattails brushing the ground as he peered intently into Jack’s unmoving expression, straining to spot another telltale sign of life. 

“Oh shit, did that ECHOeye thing actually work?” Rhys muttered to himself, eyebrows rising high into his hair as he observed the pulsing ECHOeye illuminate Jack’s features in a slight douse of green. 

_Did I actually bring him back? Or was that my imagination?_

“Hey Jack–Jack you in there?” Rhys started, stretching out a metal hand and waving furiously in front of his unmasked face. There came no following reaction from Jack, still lifeless and propped against the ruined control panel. Rhys withdrew his hand and sighed, a frown digging into the corners of his mouth. 

Maybe that twitch of the eyelids had been Rhys’s own yearning emotions playing tricks on his sight. Disappointing. Rhys was about to collect his legs from underneath him and rise to feet when a sudden shudder of Jack’s body broke the stillness of the air. 

Rhys’s attention was instantly pulled back down and he could do nothing but stare in awed silence at the shallow tremors wracking Jack’s chest. He was...breathing. Unsteadily breathing for sure, but breathing nonetheless.

_Did I–Did I really bring him back?_

Jack was clearly alive, that was apparent. Rhys remained kneeling at Jack’s side, looming over him as the rise and fall of his chest continued at a slow yet steady pace. Rhys silently gaped down at Jack’s body, shock and excitement coursing through his veins. 

Rhys remained at Jack’s side with a minor frown, slightly relishing in relief felt by observing Jack’s breathing and obvious signs of life. The glow of the ECHOeye cast a greenish glow over the edges of the Vault scar etched into his features. Jack’s stable, still pattern of breathing continued on for at least several minutes. Rhys’s eyes burned and watered as his stare bored heatedly into the unconscious man slumped over beside him. 

Jack hadn’t administered any other movements. The only sign he was alive was the rattling rise and fall of his chest. He remained unconscious and showed no clear signs of rousing anytime soon. The limp expression of his face appeared almost coma-like. Slowly, Rhys’s excitement turned to a pit of despair. 

_Why isn’t he waking up?_

Rhys hadn’t the faintest idea of what to do or try next. He’d already done everything he possibly could. Shoving the ECHOeye into Jack’s body was quite literally his only option and course of action. 

Rhys ran a flesh hand over his mouth and sighed, eyes lingering on the marred features of Jack’s face. 

This was stupid and Rhys was full of dumb, emotional, wishful thinking. 

There was no way Jack could possibly come back and wake up. 

Handsome Jack was dead as a doornail and he wasn’t getting second chances anytime soon, that was clear. 

Yet another wave of frustration crashed into Rhys as he pinched the bridge of his nose and clambered to his feet. His boots scuffed the rocks as he stood with a slight sway, leaning over Jack’s unconscious form. 

God, he was so close. He was so goddamn close to reviving Jack. Jack was right here in front of him and even breathing. Breathing! 

All Rhys wanted was to speak to Jack one last time. He just wanted to clear up some unfinished business but most importantly, he wanted to give Jack a second shot. 

And here Jack was! Right here, lying unconscious and alive on the rocks in a Vault! So close, yet so far. 

Rhys jammed a metal fist into his own forehead, twisting painfully as if to clear his raging headache of frustration before he dropped his fist to his side and glared dully at Jack’s unconscious body. He sucked in a seething breath between his teeth. 

“Come on, jackass! Wake up!” He spat furiously whirling on a heel away from Jack and throwing up his hands. With no response from Jack, he spun back around and continued his furious tirade. 

“–Argh–You stupid, good for nothing piece of technological JUNK! Wake up! Come on, where's the effort, huh? Where’s the excitement? I thought you still wanted to strangle me! And look! Look at me–I’m right here!” Rhys shouted in a clamorous outburst of frustration, clenching his fists. He redirected his rising irritation by glaring heatedly down at Jack’s unconscious form. 

Jack did not reply. 

Rhys sucked in a shaky breath and exhaled deeply, forcing his irate nerves to quell. He dropped back into a squat at Jack’s side and narrowed his eyes, squinting begrudgingly at Jack’s unconscious form. 

“Come on...wake up. I know you want to…” he egged on in a low voice. 

“I’m right here and in literal strangling distance.”

Rhys quirked his head to the side and let out a frustrated growl, glaring at the stupidly peaceful expression etched into Jack’s face. 

This was pointless. 

This was stupid. Rhys was stupid. Jack was stupid, the stupidest of all, in fact. 

The last time Rhys and Jack stood in the same room together, Jack had greatly desired to rip out his throat. Now Rhys was right here beside him and right within the sweet range of Jack’s strangling grasp yet the stupid, selfish bastard refused to wake the _fuck_ up. 

Well, Rhys would simply have to take matters into his own hands. With a frustrated growl, he furiously rolled up the black sleeve of his flesh arm, exposing the blue waves of his tattoos swirling down his forearm.

“Alright! Since you’re being so _difficult,_ I’m gonna be difficult! Wake up you goddamn bastard and come strangle me! This oughta motivate you!”

There was a split second where Rhys wound up his arm before letting loose a swing. An audible crack rang out through the air as Rhys’s hand connected with the firm flesh of Jack’s cheek in a stinging slap. 

Rhys hadn’t actually believed that bitch-slapping the ever loving shit out of Jack’s comatose body would spark anything, he’d just wanted an aggressive outlet to vent his frustrations. However, as Rhys drew back his hand and shook out his fingers with a feeling of smug satisfaction, Jack’s mouth _twitched._

Rhys instantly leapt to his feet. He took a spring backwards of surprise and fear, scrambling away from Jack’s limp form propped against the control panel. Jack’s stiff lips suddenly took a rattling breath, spilling out an audible grunt of, 

“–nghwhatthefuck–”

Rhys gaped with a dumbstruck expression as Jack’s drooping eyes fluttered open, cracks of blue and the vibrant green hue of the ECHOeye peeking through his eyelids.

Jack stared blindly and unfocused for a moment before he seemed to kick into gear, registering his surroundings by slowly shifting his head to the side. 

His expression churned with confusion and it seemed he hadn’t noticed Rhys several feet away staring at him with a wide-eyed gaze of both excitement and apprehension. 

Rhys blinked rapidly for a moment, opening and closing his mouth but unable to form coherent words. Instead he stood before Jack in dead silence, mouth agape like a dying fish.

As Jack groaned and aggressively rubbed his palms into his temples, Rhys snapped back to reality and hastily composed himself. He straightened his shoulders and set his jaw, now staring down at Jack with a steely eye. 

“Welcome back. The ECHOeye wasn’t too cramped I hope?” He crossed his arms, black coattails fluttering as he stole a single step backwards. Jack’s head jerked up at the sound of Rhys’s level voice. His expression contorted into a bout of confusion and he narrowed his eyes, straining to squint at Rhys standing over him. He struggled to form words as he peeled open his lips. 

“Rhys?” He croaked out in a hoarse whisper before breaking off into a fit of coughing and furiously massaging his throat. 

The vocal cords attached to this body hadn’t been in use for quite some time. 

Rhys remained silent, neither confirming nor denying Jack’s question of his name. Jack ran a hand across his throat one final time before fixing his glare back up towards the man in black standing over him. 

The blue scar rippled across his face as his expression flitted between a tinge of confusion and a hot flash of fury. A familiar, rather cold flash of teeth was beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. 

“Rhysie! My special boy! Well it’s certainly been a while, huh?”

Jack’s shuddering voice grew stronger, the ghosting rasp in his tone gradually fading.

Then his head lolled to the side as his shoulders shuddered and his chest heaved in a fit of loose chuckles. Rhys remained silent, simply observing Jack press his palms against the rough rocky ground and stiffly fold his legs under him. He struggled for a moment still shaking with mirthful laughter. The sound of his hoarse, raucous bursts of chuckles echoing around the walls of the Vault. 

With a challenged effort, Jack gathered his legs underneath him and slowly rose to his feat with an unsteady sway. He reached behind himself and grasped the surface of the ruined control panel for support while straightening up onto stiff legs which threatened to give out from under him at any moment. Rhys eyed him warily as he leaned stiffly against the rusted metal and threw his head back with a short barking laugh. 

“So? Couldn’t do anything without me, huh? Did ya miss me that badly or something?” He grinned wickedly, snapping his attention back to Rhys with a cruelly arched eyebrow. 

“Not particularly,” Rhys finally found words to shoot back, shifting his weight as he frowned at Jack’s familiar smug grin. Jack narrowed his eyes, suddenly wracking his gaze up and down Rhys’s figure in thought. 

“You look different. What’s with all the black? You look like you just came from a funeral or something and oh–look at that, you’ve got the ECHOeye back in. What’s up with the yellow?” 

“This one isn’t yours, it's new. I had it made by some ex-Hyperion engineers,” Rhys briefly tapped his left cheekbone.

“Nah, I don't believe you, that’s gotta be mine. So you shoved me back in your head, didn’t you? Can’t believe you’d have the balls to do it! Especially after that nasty little traitor stunt you decided to pull on me. You have some fucking nerve, cupcake,” Jack dissolved into another fit of uncontrollable laughter, throwing back his head and hooting at the orange, hazy sky above them. 

“My god–you’re–you’re such a friggin’ _idiot,”_ Jack wheezed, slowly pushing off the control panel as he gradually regained the steady use of his unstable legs. He grinned, taking a wobbly step forwards with his scuffed sneakers. Between his lurching, unsteady movements and the dried bullet hole gaping in his forehead, his stature was quite zombie-esque. 

“So...I don’t get a ‘thank you’ for bringing you back? I even found you a new body,” Rhys asked, cocking an eyebrow and observing Jack’s unstable, lurching figure with a twinge of amusement. 

Jack always had a smooth and cool presence. Witnessing him so clumsy and staggering around all woozy-like was completely new and strangely comical. Perhaps it shed a light on him that made him appear almost human–like he wasn't a hotblooded, unstoppable murdering monster.

Jack rolled his eyes and snorted.

“The hell are you on about? I can’t be in another body, you _definitely_ shoved me back in yours. ‘Cause you...you wouldn’t actually be crazy enough to give me a bo–ah wait, is that why you plugged me back in your head? You’ve gone crazy?”

Rhys let out a small exhaling sigh. 

“Jack, take a look around. You’re not a hologram anymore, you’re not in my head.”

Jack raised a hand and made a mocking mouth with his fingers.

“–blah blah–and now you’re yammering nonsense. Yep, I’m right. You’ve actually gone crazy. Kinda sad actually, that head of yours was prettier with a brain inside it,” Jack’s smarmy grin widened.

“Look at your hands or something for fuck’s sake,” Rhys snapped, patience wearing thin as he gestured with one shiny metal hand. Jack glanced down at his own two hands before his eyes widened with recognition and surprise. He slowly turned his palms over, eyebrows shooting through the roof. 

“Oh I see. You musta messed with my data files ‘cuz my hands are colored now instead of that god-awful ugly blue–”

Jack then raised his gaze and dropped his hands. He lurched forwards with an experimental, staggering step and stared at Rhys with a recognizable light of apprehension behind his eyes. His gaze then flicked down to his own body with a disgusted frown.

“Actually, what the hell exactly did you do to my file? My body its all weird and...heavy...I don’t like it,” Jack growled, stumbling to a halt and glowering down at his old, ragged navy blue coat. He frowned at one of the scuff marks in the fabric and attempted to brush out one of the old, dark blossoming bloodstains before discovering it was fruitless. 

“You must have had some weird sicko ideas about what qualify as upgrades,” he decided, attention jerking back up towards Rhys. 

“But whatever. The only important thing here is that Handsome Jack’s back, baby! Y'know for a moment I kinda forgot that heroes never died andhey–once again, I'm up and kicking!” Jack cracked his knuckles, a wide toothy grin spreading across his face causing his blue marring to ripple. 

“And you know what I’ve got running for me, right on return? You! You’re right here and you’re the only meatsack I actually need!” Jack chuckled, green ECHOeye pulsing brighter between his eyelids.

Rhys remained quiet and stony listening to Jack’s apparently triumphant monologue. With mild gratification, he observed Jack notice the pocketwatch fastened to his breast in it’s dented, warped state. Rhys rubbed the bridge of his nose in a twinge of irritation. 

“Jesus, how dense can you be? It’s like that stupid overinflated ego of yours is a brick wall–”

“Hey, watch who you’re callin’ dense I’m s–”

“Look, you’re not in my head!” Rhys exclaimed, frustration riddling his mind as he loudly drowned out Jack’s barking retort. To his surprise, Jack didn’t express offense at Rhys’s outburst and instead rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he fixed Rhys with a skeptically amused glower. 

“Yeah, alright. Fine. I’m not in your head. Now since I’m not in your head, how about I come over there and wrap my fingers around your throat just to make sure,” Jack threatened with a smarmy grin. He held himself with smug confidence even though he’d orchestrated this as a completely empty threat. 

His smug smirk slipped for a single moment, replaced by a flicker of disbelief when Rhys suddenly cracked his own wicked grin and swept out his arms in invitation. 

“Alright. Do it. Come wrap your fingers around my throat, if that’s what it's gonna take for you to realize you’ve got your body back.” 

Rhys satisfactorily observed a strange emotion flicker across Jack’s eyes at his welcoming of the threat. He’d called out Jack’s bluff right in the open. Suddenly, Jack’s demeanor flipped like a switch, his charming tone instantly swapping with a cool, smooth jab. 

“Kitten, you’ve seriously–and I mean seriously, lost your mind. It’s almost more sad than funny–but its still more funny,” he chuckled.

Fists suddenly balled at his side, Rhys took a surprisingly threatening stride forwards, booted heels clicking on the rough rocks. A sheer air of confidence rolled off his shoulders as he approached Jack, pausing only a couple feet away. From this distance, Rhys picked out the slight faltering twitch of Jack’s grin and the narrowing of his eyes. He was uneasy. 

He was uneasy because Rhys had changed since the fall of Helios. 

Regarding Jack with a haughty, challenging glare, Rhys opened his mouth to continue. 

“I said do it, Jack.” 

For a split second Jack was silent and rigid, warily eyeing Rhys’s new confident stature before he visibly relaxed, shoulders falling as he waved a lazy hand and leaned back. 

“Nah, you’re just gonna try and make me look like an idiot while my pretty hologram hands go straight through you like a friggin’ ghost. Gonna try and get a real good laugh out of that one, eh Rhysie?” Jack narrowed his eyes, pointing his finger in an accusing manner at Rhys’s chest. 

As Rhys stole another rather intimidating step forwards, Jack’s hand fell to his side.

“If you don’t do it, I’ll make you,” Rhys’s one golden eye gleamed, bathing Jack in an icy glare. Jack heaved a dramatic sigh and his eyes flickered away for just a second. 

“Jeez what’s your problem, cupcake? Although, I’d say this new confidence jazz is an improvement if it wasn’t directed at me,” He noted, voice addled with mocking laughter. A stalling tactic, plain and clear.

“Jack–”

“Alright! Alright fine! Come here and I’ll give you a good ol’ Handsome Jack-style strangling–and you better not have a kink for this sorta thing or it's gonna get pretty awkward in here,” Jack warned suggestively, dropping his light tone and squinting suspiciously at Rhys before stepping forwards. Rhys rolled his eyes and dropped his hands to his sides

“I’m all yours.”

Silence settled between them for a moment as the only sound filling the air was the quiet ripplings and bubbles foaming in the lava lake. 

Rhys eyed Jack with instinctive wariness as Jack reached out with both his hands and tenderly, almost lovingly wrapped his rough fingers around Rhys’s neck, thumbs pressing lightly against his throat. 

A start of surprise flashed over Jack’s expression at the sudden familiar contact of warm living flesh under his palms. He was gazing at his hands snugly around Rhys’s neck with a look of almost...wonder. 

“Huh...well that’s new…”

Rhys blinked rapidly, thoughts racing as he tried to glimpse any information pertaining in Jack’s expression other than initial surprise.

What was his next move going to be? 

Rhys’s curiosity was cut short along with his air supply. He clenched his jaw, heart thudding against his ribcage in fear as the pressure around his throat snapped tight. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and a pained gasp slipped past his lips as Jack’s thumbs dug harshly into the soft flesh of his throat. Blood rushed to his head as the fingers curling around the back of his neck squeezed painfully taught. 

Yet somehow Rhys was able to remain remarkably still, glaring down at Jack with a steely eye. 

Jack refused to meet his gaze, instead focused intently on his hands clenched around Rhys’s throat. Behind his narrowed eyes was a lightened mixture of fury and concentration. Rhys’s metal hand curled into a defensive fist as the fingers wrapped around his throat twitched uncertainly. 

Fearful thoughts rose from the depths of Rhys’s mind as doubt about Jack’s intent surfaced. Would Jack really go through and kill him? From the way events were unfolding, the chance was more than likely. He seemed to be enjoying the sensation of his fingers dug into Rhys’s throat with a little too much enthusiasm in his eyes. 

If Jack went through with the strangling and actually attempted to kill Rhys, Jack’s second chance would mean absolutely nothing and Rhys would have brought back a true madman. If Jack killed him, that would lead to the conclusion his betrayal of Rhys truly meant nothing and Jack had planned to kill him from the start–Rhys would have been nothing but a tool from the very beginning. Jack’s second chance for an explanation would become completely, utterly void. 

For a moment, all hope was lost as Jack’s grip suddenly stiffened further, nails digging agonizing crescents into Rhys’s neck. 

Of course Rhys wasn’t about to let Jack kill him, he only wanted to see how far Jack would go. 

And he’d seen enough.

Rhys was on the verge of putting his curled metal fist to use when the pressure wringing his neck suddenly drew slack. He sucked in an instinctive gasp of air, the dryness roughing up his throat. Jack’s hands remained locked around Rhys’s neck and his thumbs persisted, lightly brushing the skin of Rhys’s throat but his violent chokehold had ceased.

With what little air Rhys had sucked in he used to crack a grin as Jack’s gaze finally flickered upwards to meet his own. Rhys opened his mouth, dry lips twisting into a rather smug smile. 

“What–Not gonna finish me off? Come on–it’s just a little more squeeze–” Rhys rasped, voice slowly returning. 

“Just a little squeeze and a–”

“–Rhysie if you don’t stop running your mouth I will.”

Rhys fell silent, jaw snapping shut as he gazed at Jack with a skeptical light. 

“I thought you wanted this. Especially after I betrayed you.”

The fingers around his throat stiffened once more and Rhys bit back a nervous gulp of air. 

A spark of fury flashed across Jack’s gaze at Rhys’s words. 

“What I want? Me? Oh kitten, you took everything I wanted from me,” Jack hissed, the vibrant green lense in his left eye gleaming sharply. 

“Every goddamn thing. I wanted to murder you. I spent months in that damned eye daydreaming about my friggin’ fingers wringing your skinny little neck,” he spat. Rhys’s smug grin turned rather hollow. 

“Well...what are you waiting for? I’m right here giving you what you want,” he cocked an eyebrow. Jack’s expression furrowed. 

“No. No you aren’t. I spent eternity in the darkness of that eye. Heh–gave me a lot of time to _think_ , y’know, being alone and all. Did you know I could hear myself dying? My code was breaking from being jammed in such a small space. Way back ago I knew an AI who went through the same thing. I didn’t know what she’d meant when she said, “I can see myself dying” until now. I could see myself dying, little numbers of code just breaking away,” Jack sucked in a breath. 

“I hated it in that eye so much. I hated it so much I even stopped thinking about killing you–”

“Well, now's your chance,” Rhys egged on, leaning forwards into the rough thumbs digging into his throat with a twisted smirk. There was a flash of movement as he suddenly seized Jack’s wrists in an iron grip, forcing them tighter against his throat. 

“Get your backstabbing fingers off me–” Jack spat venomously at the touch, wrenching his hands from Rhys’s grip in a slippery twisting movement. He broke away and stumbled back, halting several feet away from Rhys, scowling at him with a flash of anger while he rubbed his stinging wrists. 

“What the hells your fuckin’ problem, Rhysie!?” He exclaimed furiously. 

“Why are you doing all this? You aren’t completely stupid–and I know that because I’ve been in your head myself!”

Rhys stole a step forwards and Jack instantly stiffened, pausing the wounded massaging of his wrists. 

“What do you mean? I thought you wanted this?” Rhys insisted, spreading his hands almost innocently. Jack’s scar rippled as his face contorted to a deeper scowl. 

“I’m not stupid either. Actually, I’m way smarter than you but that’s not my point at the moment. So what’s it gonna be? What do you want from me, from good ol Handsome Jack?” Jack appeared to regain control of his fury and cool his facade, switching to a more lightened vicious tone as he cocked an eyebrow with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

When Rhys remained quiet, Jack repeated himself. 

“Hey! I asked a question and I expect an answer! Clearly you want something. After all, people only ever want something from me,” a bursting good-natured chuckle fell from his mouth as he continued. 

“So, what’s it gonna be for you, huh? Why’d you bring me back? What's the price I gotta pay for that?” 

Rhys dropped his grin and softened his gaze. 

“I want to give you a fair second chance.”

For a moment Jack was silent. Then he burst into a hoot of laughter. 

“Oh kitten that’s a mistake!–”

“–No it’s not. You’ve already proven yourself. You won’t kill me which means you have at least some grasp of remorse or weird emotion like guilt for what you tried to do to me,” Rhys cut in boldly. Jack stared at him for a moment, mouth falling slightly open as he processed Rhys’s words, his casual laid-back manner dissipating immediately as rage filled his expression. 

“Do to, _you?_ Do to, _you???_ Why don’t we talk about what you did to me! _You_ betrayed me! You–I thought you were different–” Jack broke off to exhale a wheeze of breathy laughter. 

“–I thought we were actually a team! Y’know, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Jack spat from between his teeth, pointing an accusing finger at Rhys and shaking his head. 

“I actually started to like you which obviously turned out to be a huge goddamn pain in my ass because you’re just like everyone else! You betrayed me right when I had everything I ever wanted, it's a trick everyone uses with me and I should have seen it coming from you too!” Jack exclaimed furiously, green ECHOeye pulsing even brighter as his emotions clearly heightened. 

“I used to think I could trust you–we were supposed to be a team you fucking idiot!” Jack snapped, now beginning to pace haughtily back and forth across the rough, uneven ground. 

“Being a trusted teammate and being a mindless servant are two completely different things,” Rhys retorted blandly. His mouth pressed into a thin line as he studied Jack’s agitated form pacing across the rocks. Jack whirled around with a sharp glare. 

“Y’know, the only friggin’ skill you have is this special way of really, just _really,_ being able to piss me off–”

“I’m your teammate, Jack. I’m your friend. At least I _was_ but now I’m not so sure. See, friends don’t force friends into chairs and try and cut them open with saws,” Rhys remained calm, keeping the growing frustration in his mind at bay. His voice seethed with a tinge of anger. Jack threw up his hands with an irritated growl and whirled away on a heel. 

“Oh my _god_ you’re so overdramatic it’s gonna kill me a third time!” He proclaimed spinning back around and dropping his hands at his sides.

Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose in tapered frustration, collecting his thoughts before coming to a conclusion on what to do next since the two of them were clearly getting nowhere.

“Alright. Alright, fine. I’ll go first,” he decided, dropping his hand to his side with an open palmed gesture. 

“I’m _sorry._ I was mistaken and should have made myself clear about how I viewed our partnership. I thought we were friends, equals and I thought we trusted each other. I didn’t mean that I’d lay down and roll over and give you my life on command and I thought that was clear. After all, you’d never do the same for me,” Rhys finished with a tinge of dry bitterness resonating in his voice. 

His words only appeared to heighten Jack further. 

“You’re sorry? You?” Jack snarled, fingers balling into fists of rage at his side as he shook with anger. 

“ _You_ have nothing to be–Wait. Are you– _pitying me_? Ah, this is what all this is about. Pity. You brought me back out of pity,” Jack’s voice dripped with venom. 

“No, I brought you back so you could have a second chance and explain yours–”

“No you didn’t, don’t even try to lie to me. You had the audacity to bring me back out of pity,” Jack shook his head, a twinge of mock astonishment flashing across his features. A chuckle spilled from his mouth as he raised his hands. 

“God! You’re pathetic! Alright, change of plans. I’m just gonna strangle you and put you out of your pathetic misery. Although before I do, I’m dying to know–whose body am I gonna be using to do the honors?”

“It’s your original body from when you died in the Vault of the Warrior from the Vault Hunters.”

Jack’s smug expression dropped on a dime. A moment of silence hung between them as Jack cast a quick gaze to his left and his eyes darted over the landscape, taking in the lava field and the towering Eridian statues. He slowly turned back to Rhys, unbothered to mask his curiosity as his brows furrowed. 

“How did someone like you get in here? The Vault Key was destroyed. No one should be able to open this place, how the hell are you in here?”

“I opened a different Vault, the Vault of the Traveler.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did. I’m not exactly a dumbass idiot like you think,” the traces of a smile ghosted Rhys’s features. Jack quickly glanced away. 

“The Vault of Traveler brought me here, to your old body so I decided to take advantage of it,” Rhys explained. Jack glanced back towards him, expression softening as he crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight. 

“I guess I missed a lot...huh,” he mused indirectly to Rhys, tapping his chin. 

“Yeah, you did.”

Jack sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, opening his mouth to spit out another comment. 

“Well–” his hand on his face suddenly froze and his eyes visibly blew wide. Slowly, with almost ginger care, he drew his fingers away from his face. He blinked for a moment before cautiously dabbing at his oddly rough facial features once more, fingers brushing the edge of his blue marring. His eyes darted between his hand and Rhys with a shifty look of apprehension. His expression immediately hardened as his gaze flickered back and forth.

“Where the hell is my mask?” He suddenly growled, voice quickly spewing venomous anger. 


	3. Chapter 3

“I don’t know,” Rhys replied simply. Jack let out a loose growl. 

“Did you take it?” He bristled in a heated tone, hand still hovering over his face. Rhys shook his head. 

“No, you weren’t wearing it when I found you lying over there,” Rhys raised a metal hand and pointed several feet beyond Jack’s shoulder. Jack followed Rhys’s finger and cast a brief searching glance behind himself. 

“Friggin’ Vault Hunters must have taken it,” he glowered angrily, lowering his hand and revealing his marred features once more. The ECHOeye cast his scar into a sharp green light as he clenched his fingers into fists. 

“–Probably as some friggin’ trophy–” he spat out furiously before raising his narrow, hostile glare to meet Rhys’s stony gaze once more. 

“I take it people don’t usually see what’s under the mask?” Rhys guessed, raising an eyebrow. Jack shrugged, letting his bristling shoulders fall as he swiftly switched over to a more casual charming facade. He waved a lazy hand and rolled his eyes. 

“Eh, not usually but I don’t really care if it's you. After all, you and me used to be…’tight’, remember?” A withering sneer tugged at the edges of Jack’s grin. Rhys ignored his jab and folded his arms with a steely glare. 

“Well, I guess seeing you maskless is another offense to add to the list of reasons why strangling me is a valid option?” He invited, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. Jack frowned and rubbed his chin in wondering consideration. 

“Seriously! Come strangle me, for ol’ times sake. Put me out of my pathetic useless misery eh–eh?” Rhys chided, voice alight with a peculiar challenging edge as he drummed his metal fingers against his rough black sleeve. He wanted to be sure of Jack’s intentions…he didn’t wanna be fooled again. 

For a moment, Jack’s gaze quickly wracked over Rhys’s form before he pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away with an accursed mutter and threw his hands to the sky with an exasperated huff. 

“It’s like he’s tone deaf! Or he’s friggin’ broken! Seriously! What’s wrong with this guy!” Jack proclaimed to the orange hazy sky before spinning back around and massaged his temple in an aggravated manner.

“Cupcake, I’m gonna tell you one more time and then that’s it–so shut your yapper and listen to me. I’m really, really not in the mood to–” he hissed between his teeth. 

“–Are you sure?” Rhys cut in, arms falling to his sides as he swayed forwards, stepping up to Jack until the distance between them no more than a mere foot. Being so near, Rhys could pick out the explicit difference in Jack’s organic blue eye and the highlighted green iris of the ECHOeye. Jack’s feet remained rooted to the ground and his shoulders rose, eyes narrowing in stubborn defiance as Rhys approached. 

“Are you sure you’re ‘really not in the mood?’ ‘Cause the last time we spoke, you very,  _ very  _ explicitly tried to tear out my throat,” Rhys cocked an eyebrow in skepticism as Jack’s expression hardened. 

“God your stupidity is really unmatched. I’m almost impressed.”

“Wow. Insulting me? Now that’s real mature– ”

“Good fucking christ, just c’mere.”

Jack moved quickly in blurred motion and Rhys barely had a moment’s breath to brace himself as Jack’s hands shot towards his neck. He instinctively stumbled back a step, expecting the wrath of Jack's fingers to securely lock around his throat in the second chokehold of the day.

Instead, Jack’s hands brushed past his throat and Rhys’s eyes widened in astonishment as Jack threw his arms around his neck and roughly pulled him in for an unexpected embrace.

Rhys stiffened as Jack’s chin settled on his shoulder and his arms draped firmly around Rhys, ruffling the black fabric of his collar. Feeling Jack pressed against him very much  _ alive _ was an odd sensation. Within a few passing moments, Rhys’s tensed muscles relaxed and the fingers in his clenched metal fist loosely unfurled. A multitude of thoughts raced through his head as he gazed blankly into the navy blue clad arm pressed against his right cheek. 

Why was–

What was Jack doing? What was he trying to convey? Was this some sort of trick? Knowing Jack, that was quite plausible. Or perhaps this was a manipulation tactic–that was also plausible.

An awkward stretch of silence hung between them. Rhys felt his own heart hammering loudly against his ribcage. Should he speak? Say something? What was there to say? He’d begun to open his mouth to formulate a few hasty words when Jack spared him the thought.

“Just–Listen to me, for one goddamn minute, ‘kay?” 

Rhys exhaled a short puff of air and snapped his mouth shut. A hollow ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he brought his arms up and lightly reached around Jack’s torso to press his hands against Jack’s back.

“Alright. But just for one goddamn minute.”

At Rhys’s touch, Jack sighed woefully.

“You left me. You betrayed me and then abandoned me by trapping me in that eye.”

Jack’s words knifing Rhys in the back almost hurt more than his hands around Rhys’s throat minutes prior.

“You stabbed me in the back and then shoved me into a prison worse than friggin’ death. I mean–personally I didn’t think you had it in you,” Jack snickered darkly.

“Oh boy was I wrong. But then again, I’m never wrong because you  _ didn’t _ have the guts to do it. You brought me back eventually, today actually...even after that whole fantastic show up on Helios...

“I really thought I was done for after you ripped out the eye. I sat in there for ages, just wasting away and... _ dying.  _ Thinking about killing you only helped for the first couple weeks. After that, the brain’s a bit fuzzy ‘cause it started to hurt too much to think anymore. So, I’m...I’m uh...sorry.”

“Right, so you’re apologizing because you’re feeling sorry for yourself and whatever excruciating pain you went through,” Rhys added drily, forcing down his feelings of disappointment. The lingering addition of “– _ that you deserved”  _ went unspoken. 

God, he  _ really  _ should've expected nothing less from Handsome Jack. 

“Still only caring about yourself, huh? Well, I guess it's nice to see your time away didn’t completely change you. Still the same old, shitty Jack.” 

“Mm. Nice to see you never lost your whiny bitchiness either. Got worried for a sec there, princess,” Jack shot back his stinging retort.

“So, are we gonna finish up this Jack pity-fest? Because I’m not really convinced with your act. Seems like you might still wanna strangle me and hey–my offer still stands,” Rhys made a dramatic motion in an attempt to wretch himself from Jack’s hug but Jack held him fast and proclaimed a denial of, 

“Nah, we’re not done here, sugar. ”

After a passing moment, Rhys ceased struggling against Jack’s tight grasp and simply accepted his fate, duly resting his chin on the rough fabric cladding Jack’s shoulder. Jack opened his mouth to speak. 

“Before you abandoned me, I thought you were my friend–”

“Yeah, I was. But were you ever mine?” Rhys interrupted sharply. 

“Considering what you did to me, no–”

“Before that,” Rhys clarified. A repetitive clarifying idea was nagging the back of his mind. He knew–he just  _ knew _ , there  _ had _ to have been a spark of something mutual at one point, no matter how brief. All that teammate jazz and all the shit the two of them had experienced together, it couldn’t have all truly been nothing but a lie. It couldn’t–

Jack let out a low rumbling laugh, shuddering against their embrace. 

“Cupcake, I let you know about  _ Angel,  _ Hyperion’s biggest secret, my  _ daughter.  _ Of course I trusted you and yeah I was your friend, I mean–if I wasn’t I would’ve just taken over when you let me into your subsystems in that fun situation with your bandit companions and Wallethead,” Jack offered truthfully before continuing. 

“Right now I don’t know what you are, but you sure as hell aren’t my enemy. There’s quite literally nobody else left here for me. Vault Hunters killed my kid and my girlfriend, you brought down my friggin’ space station–I’m still mad about that by the way–but there isn’t anything left for me. It's kinda funny actually–the person who betrayed me is the last one I have,” Jack snorted.

“And I don’t even have you, really. So I’m sorry for...what? What am I supposed to be sorry for? Everything? Yeah...maybe you wouldn’t have freaked if I’d told you about the whole ruling Hyperion and endoskeleton mojo plan earlier…sorry ‘bout...that.”

_ Same old twisted, egotistical manipulative Jack.  _

__ Well...at least Jack wasn’t strangling him. Rhys supposed he should accept Jack's compliance and usage of coherent speech as a pro, rather than a con since this situation could’ve easily played out far worse. Hey, Rhys had miraculously managed to lead Jack into uttering the word ‘sorry.’ That was a feat within itself. And at least Jack’s apology was...maybe a semblance of a start. 

“This doesn’t seem very Handsome Jack-like. You go after everyone who's ever wronged you and take revenge. You shoot people in the head or scoop out their eyes or strangle them to death, you don’t just  _ stop _ ,” Rhys insisted with an incredulous hiss, fingers digging into the rough fabric cladding Jack’s back. He raised his head an inch, shifting his eyes to glimpse Jack’s obscured face against his shoulder. 

“So why are you trying to apologize? This isn’t like you.”

“I'm just really tired of this same old cycle of backstabbing I get. Actually, y’wanna know something special, Rhysie? You're the only backstabber whose come crawling back to me,” Jack leered. 

“Right, because I need you so badly,” Rhys finished blandly, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“I could kill you twenty ways just from the way you’re hanging onto me right now,” he threatened sharply without the need for bluffing. The force of his cybernetic arm alone could implement fatal damage faster than Jack’s hands would ever be able to find his neck. 

“That’s my line,” Jack snorted, unfazed by Rhys’s cold threat. 

“See, the keyword you’re using is ‘could’ _.  _ You’re not actually gonna kill my handsome ass, not after all that trouble of bringing it back.” 

“That’s true but our ceasefire goes both ways. You’re not gonna kill me either, I’ve already given you several chances and you’ve refused.”

“Ya got me there, Rhysie. See, you betrayed me although I’ll admit just this once–maybe….maybe it was a little, just a teensy bit understandable why you betrayed me–”

“I didn’t betray you, Jack. You manipulated and tried to kill me, plain and simple,” Rhys interjected before slipping his arms out from around Jack. He then reached up with a metal forearm to push against Jack’s chest. 

A clear message that the oh so very loving warm hug was over. Rhys shoved Jack away and he staggered back with a lingering frown, his hands settling at his hips as he squinted begrudgingly at Rhys, who was straightening out his black collar. Rhys’s hands then moved down to smooth the lapels of his coat. As he did, his eyes flickered up to regard Jack standing haughtily before him. 

“But seriously, why? Why would you even bother trying to apologize now after everything? And this is assuming you’re not pulling another manipulative stunt over me,” Rhys continued with a hard edge. He truly wished to know. Jack’s pattern of thought continued to be an unpredictable enigmatic mystery.

A prickle of irritation sparked in his gut.

Jack spread his palms and tilted his head, an infuriating grin spreading across his scarred expression. 

“Little word of advice, kitten. When there’s nothing–when you have nothing left to lose, all rational, reasonable thoughts go right out the window. Some whiny annoying voice in my head that sounds weirdly like you keeps tellin’ me you were right for what you did to me. Maybe I deserved it after all, maybe trying to stuff a teensy endoskeleton into your body was a bit...drastic, even for me…”

Rhys let out a sort of half sigh. Jack would never admit he was in the wrong. Admitting his own wrongdoing went against the very nature of every atom in his body. He’d never admit to mistakes, no matter how obvious they appeared. 

This was hopeless and useless. Jack was hopeless and useless. Frustration bubbled in Rhys’s gut. Why couldn’t Jack just... _ understand.  _ Why couldn’t he just acknowledge his mistakes just this once? Why was it so hard for him to just fucking  _ understand.  _

With irritation rising hotly in his body, Rhys sucked in a steadying breath, feeling the heat of frustration blossom from his chest and creep towards his neck.

“I don’t forgive you. I probably never will. But...this is a start,” Rhys managed out softly, straining to contain the sudden rise of high-strung emotion piercing his thoughts. He clenched his jaw and glared at the rocks jumbling the ground, struggling to cool off the sudden rise of hot anger piercing his thoughts.

Jack’s hands went to his hair, smoothing out wayward strands back into his swoop. 

“Y’know, I’d say that’s not fair but...I don’t really forgive you either,” Jack decidedly admitted, dropping his hands to his hips once more, eyebrows raised regarding Rhys with a cool expression. Rhys bit back a wave of frustration. 

“I’m glad we’re on the same terms then,” his voice spilled out as more of a growl than he’d hoped. Snapping his mouth shut in annoyance, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and sucked in a deep exhale, trying to quell the frustrated heat clouding his thoughts. 

So what now? 

The question went unspoken between them for longer than Rhys would have liked. He had nothing left to say. The silence suddenly broke as Jack opened his mouth once more. 

“Weeeell...on second thought…” 

Rhys dropped his hand and turned his steely, irritated glare back towards Jack’s smarmy facade. 

“...We could put this whole thing behind us,” Jack offered smoothly, meeting Rhys’s glare evenly and raising an eyebrow with an award winning grin that surprisingly reached his eyes. 

“It’s all old anyways…and I could  _ easily _ just forget about how you betrayed me and then  _ poof,  _ no more problems–” Jack waggled his fingers.

“Whaddya say, Rhysie? Put this behind us?”

Furious frustration drowned out Rhys’s thoughts, turning his vision red. Forgetting every goddamn thing wasn’t what Rhys wanted. He didn’t want to forgive Jack nor did he want Jack’s weak apology. There was nothing worthy from a flimsy 'I'm sorry’ from his lips and there never would be. 

Nothing would  _ ever  _ be enough for Jack to truly make up for his actions but a genuine–a real,  _ genuine  _ apology would be the tip of the iceberg. 

_ Why couldn’t Jack just  _ fucking  _ understand. _

Rhys didn’t want to simply  _ forget.  _ This wasn’t something he could just  _ forget _ and he wasn’t about to let Jack off the hook so easy _.  _ Jack wasn’t gonna forget either. __

“I should have expected this–so you’re gonna get all forgiving when suddenly we’re equals?”

“Yeeeep. You know me too well, cupcake,” Jack beamed brilliantly.

“You–” Rhys could barely contain the furious frustration now seething from his very being. Jack somehow remained utterly blind to Rhys’s hot rising anger. Rhys reached up and rubbed a shaking cybernetic to his temple as he struggled to calm himself. His thoughts raced blindly, smothered in a frustrated red haze. 

_ Why couldn’t Jack understand? Why couldn’t he just make Jack understand?  _

Rhys needed to take action and do  _ something _ –just– _ anything  _ really. He needed to gather the words and the fury in order to spit out a coherent retort to Jack’s proposal. He needed to find a way to ensure Jack would  _ never  _ be able to just  _ forget.  _ No, Rhys wouldn’t let Jack disrupt the balance of the fucked up equality of unforgiveness between them. 

So how would Rhys manage such a feat?

“You just–You just can’t understand–can you–”

He stole a stride forwards, reaching out and hooking his fingers into the lapels of Jack’s blue overcoat. Jack glanced up into his burning glare, startled for a moment as he met Rhys’s sudden fiery gaze bearing down on him. Rhys’s fingers curled into fists as he clutched the fabric of Jack’s coat and yanked him forwards, tilting his own head downwards as he caught Jack’s lips in a feverish kiss. 

There was a moment of pure startled hesitance as Jack stiffened, caught off guard by Rhys’s sudden move. Seeing the kiss had done its job judging by the unreadable, astonished expression Jack wore, Rhys’s grip on Jack’s lapels loosened. His lips had begun to pull away when Jack’s mouth suddenly moved under him. Jack’s hand shot up and gripped the edges of Rhys’s cheeks, brows furrowed as he deepened the kiss. 

Rhys’s grand master plan of whatever the fuck he should have been doing went straight out the window accompanied by his last rational thoughts. His eyes snapped shut when Jack’s thumbs dug into the curvature of his cheekbones while he leaned into the fistfuls of jacket Rhys was clutching. Yeah, there was a brief thought of–

_ What, the fuck, are we, doing? _

That crossed Rhys’s addled mind but he no longer cared. His frustrations simply melted away as Jack’s startlingly warm lips moved against his. Rhys’s fistfuls of Jack’s coat slackened as his hands traveled up towards his neck. His fingers just barely began to brush the edges of Jack’s hair when Jack suddenly broke contact and shoved Rhys away, hands pressing against his chest and stumbling back, Rhys was wrenched back to his senses with a flush, eyes snapping open once more. 

Rhys quickly composed himself, former frustrations forgotten as he instinctively moved to straighten out the lapels of his own coat. He brushed away a stray strand of hair that had drifted into his eyes and glanced over Jack. He seemed to be recovering himself just fine with a low chuckle resonating from his chest. 

Wiping his mouth with the back on one hand he glanced up and met Rhys’s gaze with a hearty grin. 

“Gotta be honest, really wasn’t expecting that to swing that way,” he chuckled. Rhys’s former elated mood quickly dropped down to a steely composure once more as Jack continued. 

“But you know I can’t let that one go. Y’know, you were close, Rhysie. I could have just–forgotten about everything and we could have just started over...but you went and ruined it. You ruined it, kitten.”

A knowing smirk tugged at the edges of Rhys’s mouth. 

“That was the plan.” 

For a split second Jack’s smarmy confidence dropped. 

Rhys exhaled a puff of amused air, a mirthful grin spreading across his features as he crossed his arms with a glitter of confidence sparkling in his gaze.

“Tell you what, Jackie. We’ll do this on my terms. We’re equals now, I don’t forgive you and now you can’t forgive me. We’ll start our second chance on equal terms founded on our past. Deal?” Rhys stuck out his arm–his cybernetic one. Jack pursed his lips for a moment, studying Rhys’s outstretched offer. 

“You drive a hard bargain...Y’see I’ll agree to this–but  _ only _ ...and  _ only  _ if you kiss me again,” Jack suddenly dropped, regarding Rhys with a light, innocent pleasant expression. Rhys narrowed his eyes suspiciously, arm still outstretched. 

“Why?”

“There wasn’t much company in that ECHOeye y’know. Just me myself and my deteriorating code. Even before then when I was a hologram, I couldn’t touch shit. I'm quite literally gonna die  _ again  _ if I can’t put my hands on another person,” Jack explained with a little too much enthusiasm at his own suggestion. Rhys sighed light amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. Just another item to add to the ever-growing Jack bullshit list.

“Fine, whatever. Now shake on it.”

Jack grinned, accepting Rhys’s outstretched hand with crushing fingers, sealing the deal with a smirk and a firm shake.

Once finished, Rhys retracted his hand and spun away from Jack setting his steely gaze across the bubbling lava lake, along the narrow strip of land and towards their ticket out–the dilapidated Fast-Travel Station. 

“We should get going t–”

Rhys broke off as Jack sauntered up to stand beside him, sneakers scuffing the rocks. He tapped Rhys on the shoulder before leaning in with an expectant gaze and an almost pouting expression. 

“Aren’t you missing something?” 

Rhys gazed over at him with a mildly amused look. 

“You never specified  _ when  _ the kiss had to happen.” 

“God fucking damnit, Rhysie. Come on–it's not that hard, just do it now! It’s only one little kis–”

“Ew no. The later I have to kiss you the better. Your lips are weird,” Rhys threw up a metal hand to stifle Jack’s retort and stepped forwards, starting down the path towards the opposite shore. Secretly, Jack’s lips were very nice but that was a whole ‘nother crisis to unpack at a later date. At the moment, they had other important matters to attend to and holding the kiss over Jack’s head might make him at least...a tiny bit cooperative. 

“Rude! I’m gonna remember our deal though, don’t you try and stall for too long now and try to forget about it–’cause I’m always gonna remember!” Jack retorted hotly, stealing hurried strides in order to catch up to Rhys who was already a quarter of the way across the lake. He eventually caught up and approached Rhys’s side, striding beside him for a surprisingly quiet moment. For once, he had shut his mouth. His silence began to disconcert Rhys who eventually stole a questioning glance over at him. 

Jack was completely fine. He grinned at Rhys. 

“Made you look. Now, seriously. How about that k–”

“No. We have more important stuff to get to–” Rhys interjected harsh denial, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning his attention back to the narrow path before him. 

“What could possibly be more important than you fulfilling your end of our deal!” Jack retorted incredulously. 

“Getting out of here and finding a surgeon that can close up the bullet wound in the middle of your bigass forehead,” Rhys snorted drily, stepping off the path onto the opposite shore, Jack followed suit, peering at Rhys with sudden surprise. 

“Alright. One: we’re gonna have a chat about how you’ve been addressing me lately ‘cause I’m not feeling the love  _ or  _ the respect. Two: we’ll do that later because there’s a  _ what  _ in my forehead, now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading i have now written all of my rhack headcanons and scenarios and will now never write again. Maybe. Quarantine is really boring. Who knows


End file.
